Happy Violentine
by Kiwisilence
Summary: Albus helps the Sorting Hat possess a comatose 16-year-old teenage boy, who becomes Hogwarts' new transfer student. Will the Sorting Hat learn magic and find love?
1. A New Day, A New Dream

Title: Happy Violentine

Rating: M (for later chapters), suggestive dialogue

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling and I don't own Harry Potter. I am receiving no profits.

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Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, gleaming with the taint of a sprite-like sparkle in his eyes. His eyes beamed – almost blazed like two suns and flared at the awakening of his companion perched on his desk. Surely, his friend would be delighted: a body had been found to possess. Albus once again glanced at his friend the hat, remembering his friend's devious plans for the current school year. The Sorting Hat would no longer be bound in a hat: he would become a teenage boy and attend Hogwarts.

"Whose body is it, Albus?" yawned the Sorting Hat, eyeing the young man sprawled out on cot several feet away from the Headmaster's desk.

"His name is Tantalus Montgomery. He has been in a magically induced coma for the past five years and is now 16. His coma is thought to be the result of some entanglement with some American werewolf clan from Maine. His mother, father, and sister were killed. Either way, the mediwizards, Poppy, and Shave concluded that he will be unable to ever wake up. He is very distantly related to Poppy and on that ground, the body was taken here as her ward."

The Sorting hat poised himself on the table, forcing the wrinkles of his fabric to straighten and while pondering the situation. "I wonder what house I shall join Albus? Would poor old Godric ever forgive me – the crown upon his fool-hardy head if I didn't become a Gryffindor?"

Albus chuckled, "But what about Harry? He needs someone to guide him through this school year."

"Oh Albus, you always know just the right spot to guilt trip me on. Playing with my emotions and sense of duty? Tisk, tisk. How Slytherin of you. I guess I shall have to become a Gryffindor. How long will the spell take for me to possess that Montgomery boy's body by the way?"

"Severus said it would react immediately. I have already charmed a new hat to sort the oncoming first years and glamoured it to look like you. The glamour can be detected if one is within close range, but it is highly unlikely any first year would be capable of such magic, let alone question why the glamour is there."

The Sorting Hat sighed, "I will slightly miss sorting them. What other excuse could I have to pry the depths of their minds with the skilled expertise of a _Legillmens_?" The Sorting shot a smirk and a knowing glance at Albus.

"Ha ha, like that would ever stop you or me," Albus once again chuckled, "Well, you said that I acting like a Slytherin. I guess it is time. The students will be arriving within the hour."

"If only I had thought of this sooner when Godric was alive. How I would have loved to suckle the nips of his manhood back in the sculptured perfection of youth. His wife couldn't have stopped me. Neither could his beyond precious Salazar." With that last comment, the Sorting Hat let out a loud, ringing laugh before contorting its mouth, trying to act seductively even without a tongue.

Albus picked up his dear friend and walked over to the cot. This Tantalus had not shriveled under his coma and grown into a ghastly pale waif. He had little muscle, but was still suave and thin. His sides curved somewhat seductively, being a little too sensual for a man. But his face – that face had a militant and Germanic androgynous regality like that Nico or Grace Jones that some of the Muggle-borns had talked about. Maybe that was why the Sorting hat has squealed with glee upon first seeing the body several days ago. Tantalus had fat, tumescent lips that curved almost as sensually as his sides. But even those lips failed to distract from the diagonal scar swooping from the middle of his temple past his eye and into the left side of his face. The scar was a faded purple like Tantalus's lips: seemingly too cold to be alive. Despite the suspicious werewolf attacks that murdered the boy's family and gave him his scar, the mediwizards said that he was not infected.

"Quit eyeing my pretty body, Albus. I'm not Grindewald: The Sequel."

The Sorting Hat slid and lifted itself onto the boy's head. Albus took his long and gangly fingers, making sure that the hat was stuck firmly on Tantalus' head. The Sorting hat closed its eyes, wincing in anticipation. It could no longer be a thinking object: it would blossom in the saturated emotions and hormones of a teenage boy – feelings that it might never have experienced otherwise.

"Don't keep me waiting," an anxious Sorting Hat sneered.

Albus sighed and collected his nerves. With one effortless swoop of his wordless magic, a beam of a cracking orange light sprung from the Elder Wand and struck the Sorting Hat. The hat quickly shriveled and withered: the very magic of its soul and mind gushed downward into Tantalus' head. Tantalus's soul was gone from being in a coma for those long five years; his only purpose now was to become a body for the Sorting Hat.

"Mmm," mumbled Tantalus as if his voice was a decrepit funnel chocking on thin and forgotten airs. This body had not spoken in five years and that was before puberty.

Albus waved his wand and with a few more flicks, the air in his breath seemed to sweeten, while his throat contorted and realigned itself.

"I can speak. Thank you Albus. I bet you do that to all the young boys in your office – especially the unconscious or comatose ones. What _a romantic_ you are."

Albus had fixed his voice and allowed his body to speak, yet the Sorting Hat would never cease their playful banter.

"Well, you haven't left the room screaming at big bad old Dumbledore," Albus sneeringly responded, "You seem quite responsive to my magical advances."

"So when do the students get here?" Tantalus quickly evaded.

"They are arriving now. A trunk of necessary textbooks and galleons has been left in your new dorm room. You shall find your wand – holly with werewolf hair – in the right pocket of your robes."

The Sorting Hat sat and waved his hands in front of his eyes. He cracked them and laughed at ho amusing it was. How playful and interesting his new body could be.

"When do I see you again, Albus? Or am I to cut of all contact? With the students be suspicious of my identity?"

"We can schedule a meeting two weeks from now to discuss your progress in the school. I suggest you socialize with your fellow students and earn some sympathy with your werewolf attack situation."

"Wait, I already have a dorm? What house am I in? Even I cannot stand the blatantly flippant and provincial Hufflepuffs. Poor Helga… Do not play with me old man!"

Albus glared at Tantalus, before breaking out in long fit of drunken merry laughter. He swept up the former shriveled Sorting Hat from the cot and placed it upon Tantalus head.

Albus yelled in a shrill mockery of the Sorting Hat's voice, "GRYFFINDOR!"

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AN: Should I continue this?


	2. Waking Up But Still Sleeping

Disclaimer: I'm not JK Rowling and I don't own Harry Potter. I am receiving no profits.

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Dumbledore had already told Hermione about Hogwarts' "new transfer student." That bastard. Tantalus was centuries old and did not feel like being patronized by a teenage girl. Despite this inconvenience, she could at times be charming and charismatic. It needed to be developed though. Maybe Tantalus would due a duty to the school and fix her into greatness. She could have been a Ravenclaw...

He walked towards the Gryffindor table, yet each step almost limped and brought his body tumbling down. Dumbledore should have done something. These legs looked fine, but felt blighted by atrophy. Tantalus felt himself wishing that his body had been bitten by a werewolf and fully turned, for it would have been stronger. He continued to walk despite the pain, and by anyone who would look at him, each step seemed perfect and refined. As he tried harder to keep walking triumphantly, his nerves heated and bulged. Human senses could be so annoying. Tantalus hoped for fun feelings: emotions to capture his nerves in all the right ways. He was no longer the shriveling old Sorting Hat, for even if he experienced the pain and ache of his legs, these feelings interested him.

"Tantalus!" Hermione beckoned, "Come sit here by me."

Tantalus approached the Golden Trio. Hermione sat alert and focused on unlocking him like he was some obscure question on her N.E.W.T.S: the difference between a perfect score and one answer wrong.

"Thank you so much for helping me," Tantalus coolly lied, "It has been strange adjusting to a new school let alone a new country."

Ron turned towards me interested, "What is your favorite Quidditch team? I follow the Cannons..."

"Ronald, I'm sure that Tantalus is a little too studious for such things. Isn't that right?" She blinked and searched Tantalus, hoping to find a kindred spirit that was above the intellectual poverty of her friends. Desperation didn't look good on Hermione.

"Yes, I guess that is true. I do enjoy my studies, but I haven't gotten into Quidditch due to some...setbacks back in America."

Ron prodded further, "How did you get that scar?" Trust a Weasley to forgo any pureblood restraint and be so blunt.

Harry finally spoke, "That's a little rude, Ron."

"Sorry, but how did you get it? Surely there must be some healer who could have fixed it?"

Tantalus pondered why it would matter, but what didn't matter to a Weasley? Look at Arthur and his trivial Muggle obsession…

Hermione politely added, "Tantalus, I know that you might not feel like speaking to us about your past - Dumbledore said you might tell us if you felt ready - but us three will stick by you no matter what. It's good to share things with friends."

Dumbledore hadn't told all three of them: Hermione had. Tantalus wanted all three to know about his life, but Hermione was too obtrusive. He really needed to fix her. He needed to also befriend these three on his own terms.

"You consider yourself my friend? I don't want to be disrespectful, but I just me you three."

"Well," she continiued, "Us three aren't exactly normal given the constant fighting with Voldemort almost every year or that Harry is the boy-who-lived and risks both his and our lives."

"Hey!" Harry jokingly snarled.

"So can you tell us? We'll understand if it is a sensitive subject and you don't want us to tell anyone else."

"Okay. I'm not ashamed to say how I got my scar, but I've never met people so... forward in asking me about it. I was born and raised in rural Maine, before a werewolf clan came and ravaged my family's farm. My father had somehow angered the alpha of the clan. My parents and sister were attacked and killed, but I somehow survived without becoming infected. I'll never make my life-long dream of becoming a model true now" Tantalus tried being humorous, and they laughed! He didn't feel like being despairing and somber; these three seemed to enjoy humor and laughs because they were drowned in danger and violence even in the confines of Hogwarts.

Harry commented, "My dad's friend is a werewolf. He was turned by Fenrir Greyback as a child. It's good that you weren't turned."

"Why wasn't your scar healed though?" Ron still questioned.

Tantalus felt like grasping and bashing Ron against the table until his bones snapped…pr he could grasp more intimate areas…

He recollected his thoughts and focused, "I don't know precisely how the healers described it. It has been five years. Something about werewolves and their magic kept the scar from healing. They mentioned something about werewolves in the past who would scar and mark their victims or loved ones but I don't quite recall the rest..."

He was really making this up. The only werewolf's mind that he has browsed and taken information from had been Remus Lupin's during his sorting ceremony, but Remus had been only eleven at the time and couldn't understand the physiology and culture of the werewolf clans. Remus had shunned the clans and decried them as abominations. Now, he was poor, starving, and destitute.

Hermione brightened, "It sounds interesting though. I think I'd love to research it in the library if you'd care to join me, Tantalus?"

Harry and Ron chimed together, "Say no," before Ron added, "it will be the end of your social life."

"Honestly. It will be fun, Tantalus, what do you say?"

"Okay. I haven't been to any libraries as substantive as Hogwarts' since I was a child. Most American magic schools wouldn't dare have that much. It'd be too expensive. And I'm sure I'll find other interests to occupy my time..." Tantalus drawled and smiled at Hermione. She giggled and blushed.

"Anyways," she said, "I have to leave and ask Luna for help on my Arithmancy project. See you later" she turned and walked away with a slightly more pronounced bounce in her step than usual.

After she left, Harry stated, "Hermione seems…bubbly."

Ron looked awkwardly towards Tantalus, ignoring Harry. Harry just laughed, making his face redden.

"So," Ron continued to pester Tantalus, "Can we call you 'Tanta'? We call Hermione 'Mione and since you two both have such long names, wouldn't a nickname be okay?"

"Sure, but can I call you firecrotch?"

Harry spat out his tea and tried to cover his smirks with a napkin but failed.

"What?"

"Well. I guess it might not be true. Maybe you dye up there or down there," he gestured, "There is one way to find out."

Tantalus slid his hand towards Ron and raised it as if ready the plunge and scavenge for Ron's pubes.

Ron blushed before gasping, "WHAT?"

"Or I could cast a fun little spell to make things more… comfortable."

Ron just continued gaping his mouth open.

"I just love the way your mouth opens… Wait, are you blushing?"

Ron jammed his mouth shut, looked confusingly at Harry and Tantalus, and then stormed off out of the great hall.

"So much sexual tension and so little time to release it."

Harry bellowed, "Denial, denial. Ron is so impolite to his crushes. I haven't seen him ths hot and bothered since Lavender Brown"

"A woman? Maybe I don't have a chance… Or maybe I do," he moaned to 'o'.

"Anyway," Tantalus continued, "so dreadfully rude. I give my crushes a complimentary dry humping for… charity at least if they ask me out or flirt with me. Unlike Ron I enjoy helping the community and… making friends."

"You're so American," Harry snickered.

"I know. In my first few hours here, I've only slept through half the staff and not a single one is pregnant! Even the males didn't get pregnant! It's an outrage. How will I ever aspire to get my own TV show? A boy needs aspirations."

Harry laughed, "You're so lucky that Hermione isn't here. She wouldn't help you if she way you acting like this. Or maybe not. Maybe you would unwind her rigidity and ravage her. Book-types make the freakiest lovers."

Harry sat up and started walking with Tantalus out of the Great Hall.

"So, you are you ready for your first day of classes at Hogwarts? You have Potions first right? Ron, Hermione, and I have the same class as you."

"Yes, but I have to stop by my room to make a few last minute wardrobe changes…"

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AN: Please review. Should Snape still be the potions teacher? What do you expect to happen in Potions class? I really don't have an clear, well-thought out idea for this story so I'll go in whatever direction you want. Should this story be an alternate sixth year or seventh year? Should Voldemort have a role in the story or be completely ignored?

Anyway, the chapter title is a line from Miss Kittin & The Hacker's song "1000 Dreams." I choose it partially because I quickly wrote this chapter and because school drains me.


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